


Twilight (we were born like this)

by Starrie_Wolf



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Child Assassin, Child Soldiers, Don't copy to another site, Gangsta. AU, Gen, Prequel to Gangsta. (can we talk about it)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:41:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23731753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starrie_Wolf/pseuds/Starrie_Wolf
Summary: A fifteen-year-old S/5 sent to assassinate a nine-year-old S/1. The result should have been obvious: unless, of course, Kisuke's Owners were merely trying kill him by sending him on assassination missions he was never meant to come back alive from.They couldn't have expected Shiba Ichigo to buy out the contract of his own would-be assassin.
Relationships: Kurosaki Ichigo & Urahara Kisuke
Comments: 13
Kudos: 212





	Twilight (we were born like this)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Gangsta. (can we talk about it)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18893503) by [Silmariën (Starrie_Wolf)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starrie_Wolf/pseuds/Silmari%C3%ABn), [Starrie_Wolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starrie_Wolf/pseuds/Starrie_Wolf). 



> Anon on Tumblr asked for an out-take to my Gangsta. AU that takes a look at the duo as children. Not making it a series because... I really have too many series already and this is a once-off request fill. Only fics with proper continuations will be made into series.
> 
> Technically a COVID-19 fic but it's not fluff.

_Large golden eyes loom out of the darkness, pupils blown wide in the dim light just like a cat’s. A hand darts into her pocket, withdraws a fist-sized pork dumpling, and taps it impatiently against his lips until he obediently opens his mouth._

_It’s sticky and cold, but it’s the first piece of food he is given that day._

_Once upon a time, she would’ve asked why he was being punished again._

_She has since then learnt that this is a futile question._

* * *

What a strange thing to be thinking about when he is staring death in the face. Kisuke stands there, frozen, his arm dangling uselessly by his side. It’s a – he should –

His training dictates that he should turn his dagger upon himself once he is captured, but it has not covered what he should do if he has been so thoroughly disarmed that he is at a loss for how to proceed henceforth.

“Who are you?” the Target demands, flipping Kisuke’s dagger through his fingers idly. It should look laughable, to be threatened by a mere nine-year-old child, but Kisuke knows very well how a person’s innate potential far outstrips their age. After all, is that not why his Owners regularly send a fifteen-year-old on the most difficult assassination missions?

The Target frowns, obviously displeased by the lack of an answer. His aura flares, like a miniature sunburst, and Kisuke flinches back before he can help it.

People are rushing into the room, now, their footsteps ringing upon the paved floor like the bells of the gallows. Escape is improbable, suicide is impossible – he’s such a failure, he doesn’t know how his Owners can stand it –

Kisuke bows his head as he is dragged away in chains.

* * *

No purple-haired girl sneaks into the prison to feed him against orders. On the flip side, he is simply chained to the wall, at an angle that even permits him to sit down upon the ground if he so chooses.

He is an assassin. Come what may, his heart shall not waver.

* * *

“Urahara Kisuke. Born 31 Dec, blood type AB, Shihōin Family assassin. Age fifteen, rank S/5.”

He blinks twice in quick succession. By the look on the Target’s face, his surprise is noted and filed away for due consideration.

As far as he knows, the Owners have wiped all records of his existence. For the Target to acquire such accurate information means… means…

Kisuke does not know what it means.

The Target holds out his hand. A pair of innocuous little metal tags sit upon the palm of his hand, painfully familiar.

Kisuke flinches involuntarily. He cannot read the tiny print etched on the second tag, but he can recognise numbers, and he can see that the first tag clearly says “S/5”. These are his tags.

“It’s illegal for a shinigami to not bear his tags,” the Target says, watching him closely.

Kisuke swallows. He does not know how the Target has managed to acquire his tags from the Owner’s locked chest, but the evidence is in front of him. It does not even matter that he cannot read the text on the second tag; S-rank designations are unique while the bearer is alive.

The tags clink against each other like manacles.

“The Shihōin sent you to assassinate me,” the Target says. It is not a question. “Do you know why?”

This is not an interrogation method Kisuke is familiar with. It is best if he remains silent until the Target’s motives become clear.

Undeterred, the Target tugs his own set of tags out from beneath his collar with his free hand, flipping the top one open so that Kisuke can see the tiny print.

“My name is Shiba Ichigo. Born 15 July, blood type A, heir to the Shiba Family, and the rank S/1 of this generation.” He closes his fist around Kisuke’s tags and puts them into his pocket.

“If you will not bear them, then I will bear them for you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Discord](https://discord.gg/8yJVmbD) | [Tumblr](http://starriewolf.tumblr.com)


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